The ghosts indoor are a minor irritation, but they are (so far) mostly no more than that. They do, also, appear to at least not be walking around carrying their own heads.
Unlike the one in the hot spring.
Its for that reason that Wrathion has continued to work indoors, despite his scissors occasionally moving on their own, his fabric bolts unfurling themselves all over the floor and on one occasion a blanket being thrown over his head.
Irritating, but harmless at least. He can endure if this is all that happens.
The shout he hears, however, implies that he is not the only victim. Wrathion glances to check his scissors have not moved (not this time) and then carefully secures his needle and thread. He opens the screen to his room slowly, glancing out into the hallway. It is, by his estimation, somewhere in the middle of the day. Nobody should be have trouble due to curfew at this time, but the shouting as it draws closer does have a note of distress to it. Perhaps they've picked a victim who is fighting back? Or someone has taken offence? Or perhaps they've escalated from moving objects.
Something moves past that Wrathion cannot... quite make out, and then when he glances back into the hall the figure of a young girl is rapidly following. He pushes to his feet, smoothing out his loose shirt and stepping over his sewing project.
Kamala → Ghostly Mischief
Unlike the one in the hot spring.
Its for that reason that Wrathion has continued to work indoors, despite his scissors occasionally moving on their own, his fabric bolts unfurling themselves all over the floor and on one occasion a blanket being thrown over his head.
Irritating, but harmless at least. He can endure if this is all that happens.
The shout he hears, however, implies that he is not the only victim. Wrathion glances to check his scissors have not moved (not this time) and then carefully secures his needle and thread. He opens the screen to his room slowly, glancing out into the hallway. It is, by his estimation, somewhere in the middle of the day. Nobody should be have trouble due to curfew at this time, but the shouting as it draws closer does have a note of distress to it. Perhaps they've picked a victim who is fighting back? Or someone has taken offence? Or perhaps they've escalated from moving objects.
Something moves past that Wrathion cannot... quite make out, and then when he glances back into the hall the figure of a young girl is rapidly following. He pushes to his feet, smoothing out his loose shirt and stepping over his sewing project.
"Trouble?"
It certainly seems that way.